


Wingman, Wingman, Wingman, Smooch.

by cecilantro



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 12:12:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14715818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecilantro/pseuds/cecilantro
Summary: It's a good morning to play wingman with Caleb.





	Wingman, Wingman, Wingman, Smooch.

**Author's Note:**

> What's up, I'm luke, and don't bother telling me my formatting is shit because like  
> 1\. i know. i am not a writer. this is all fun and games and i dont care  
> 2\. unless you're going to pay me to format stories to _your_ liking, I write the way that I can read best, because I like to read my own fics back! I'm that obnoxious dick nobody likes
> 
> i dont want the criticism partially because i wont change, and partially because I'm... a pissbaby. and I'll just quit. Especially if its exactly the same thing constantly with no explanation on how to change the things im apparently doing wrong.
> 
> (Though my formatting is more of my own readability than for anything else)
> 
> Okay sorry lecture over, I've just had... the same comment from the same person a few times and it's doing a number on my baby of a self esteem ability.  
> Peaaaaace

Caleb is used to sleeping alone, mostly, the height of usual contact for him is Nott curled up against his back. He’s beginning to grow accustomed to Mollymauk flumping over his chest in the middle of the night, but even that’s a little odd.   
But this… this is new.   
They’re all sleeping closer together tonight, putting themselves firmly within the twenty foot square of Caleb’s Alarm spell, taking no more chances on assassins and goblins and ogres.   
Nott’s taken the first watch.   
And so, as such, Caleb finds himself sandwiched up between Fjord and Mollymauk. Though perhaps  _ sandwiched _ is not so accurate; if he was to explain more specifically, it would be pressed up to Fjord, with Molly at his back.   
So this is unusual, Caleb’s head on Fjord’s shoulder and Molly’s tail twined around his leg, Jester’s arm thrown over Molly and her fingers bunched in the fabric of his shirt. He can hear Yasha and Beau breathing, too. A month ago, two weeks ago, it would have been uncomfortable to the point of Caleb leaving, staying awake all night.   
It’s new.   
And it isn’t uncomfortable, he’s warm and content as he snuggles a little closer to Fjord’s warmth, he has so much of it, and closes his eyes under the starlight.

 

Waking up is a little less comfortable. A bit of a shock, if Caleb is honest.   
Maybe it would be less so if his idea of  _ sandwiched _ from the previous night wasn’t currently a reality.   
One of Fjord’s arms is slung over his shoulders, and one of Molly’s on his other side is across his waist. Somehow,  _ somehow _ , Jester still has a fistful of his shirt.   
Dedication, he’s got to give her that.   
He pries her fingers open first, she’s not awake yet so he takes care to be gentle. Once he’s loose from her, he scoots, carefully, down, pulling himself out of the sandwich with care. He thinks, momentarily, he may have gotten away with it, until he stands up and hears the telltale rustling of someone sitting up behind him.   
‘ _ Please be Nott _ .’ Caleb begs to the universe. Yasha isn’t looking his way from her watch point. ‘ _ Please be Nott. _ ’   
“Are we not good enough for you anymore, hm?”    
Caleb turns to meet Molly’s playful expression, the raised eyebrows and the smirk to match the light tone of voice.   
Of course it isn’t Nott! Why would it  _ ever _ be Nott?   
Molly stretches up like a cat, and Caleb stammers through noises that  _ should _ be words, but don’t quite make it. Molly chuckles softly, pulls himself to his feet and steps in to Caleb, briefly, to butt his head to the wizard’s arm.    
Caleb wonders if he’s been taking socialisation lessons from Frumpkin.   
“Don’t worry, darling, I understand. Seems cold out here in the daylight, though.” Molly gestures to the sky, it’s only just past dawn and the air is damp and chilly, “Fjord is always warm, you should go back to him.”   
Caleb frowns, confused, and catches Molly’s arm as he goes to move past,   
“What about you?”   
“I’ll sit the rest of Yasha’s watch with her.” Molly shrugs, smiles, and leans in to quickly kiss Caleb’s cheek. “Give Fjord that from me, get some more sleep.”   
He easily tugs free of Caleb’s loosened grip on his wrist and moves on, breezily, leaving Caleb’s fingers free to press over the burning place that Molly had kissed. He looks between the waving purple tail, and Fjord, still asleep.   
And crawls back under Fjord’s arm, nervous but, in some way, excited. He’s got a free pass from  _ Mollymauk _ to kiss Fjord, right?   
Best to wait ‘til he wakes up, and make sure it’s okay.   
Caleb yawns and closes his eyes to the light of dawn, and though the air is cold, Fjord is warm, and he falls asleep again easily.

 

Fjord wakes before Caleb, the next time, and chokes on his own exclamation of surprise when he opens his eyes to find the party wizard asleep and serene under his arm.   
He turns his head at a very familiar smug noise, and finds Molly, hands on hips, leaning over them.   
“Looks cozy.”   
“Wasn’t on purpose.” Fjord whispers, panicked, and Molly grins,   
“Oh, I know. He was worried too, you know? Thought you might appreciate me sending him back to you.”   
“Is- is Caleb okay, with, with this?” Fjord’s panic has a different edge, and Molly flaps a hand,   
“Would I have sent him back if he wasn’t? Would he have  _ come  _ back if he wasn’t? I didn’t hold him at blade point, my love. Not my style.” The look he sends Fjord’s way is pointed, the grin is edged with something dangerous, and Fjord averts his eyes. He knows how much Molly disapproves of the night in the High Ricter’s house.   
“Wake him up, anyway, give him a chance to relax before the others get up.” Molly straightens and stretches, “Wonder if he’ll give you what I asked him to? Don’t tell him we talked.” he winks, and walks back to Yasha, shoves her shoulder as he comes up beside her.   
Fjord watches him leave, and waits until his conversation with Yasha dies away before clearing his throat, he shakes Caleb gently,   
“Uh- Caleb? C-”   
He cuts himself off as Caleb’s eyes open, and makes a valiant effort to look everywhere that  _ isn’t _ the wizard’s face. Still, though, he keeps his hand on Caleb’s shoulder, a weight of reassurance against regret.   
“Hm.” Caleb hums, sitting up and rubbing his eyes against the early morning sunlight breaking through the clouds, “ _ Guten Morgen _ .”   
“You were, cuddled up kinda close there, didn’t seem… your thing. Are y’ feelin’ alright?”   
Caleb looks over his shoulder at him and blinks a few times as his brain kicks into gear to process his words.   
“Oh. Yes, yes, I’m fine- oh!” He remembers, very suddenly, Molly’s earlier request. And leans over, carefully as Fjord sits up, and kisses his cheek.   
“That- um- Mollymauk-” Caleb sits back again, wriggling discomfort   
“Oh, that asshole.” Fjord chirrups immediately, faux anger. “Molly, heads up.” The shout is all the warning Molly gets before Fjord points at him and snaps, sending two bursts of green light his way. Molly turns, and hits the floor in the same split second, the eldritch blast just catching the tips of his hair as they blow upwards behind him, he pats at the edges as he sits up.   
He’s grinning, though. Smug bastard.   
Fjord deliberately slings an arm around Caleb’s shoulders, and uses his free hand to gesture to Molly.   
“Watchin’ you.” He states firmly, and Molly’s grin only grows.   
The commotion appears to have woken the others, save Beau, who could sleep through the end of the world. Jester struggles to sit up behind Caleb, yawning and mumbling questions as to whether they’re under attack and if they’re all going to die again.   
Caleb ducks away from Fjord to go to her, she’s already pulling her handaxe from her bag and her eyes aren’t even open yet. He catches her wrist and pats at her shoulder and reassures, and Fjord stands up to move to Molly and Yasha.   
“Now that was cruel, Molly, Caleb’ll make his own moves when he’s ready, he doesn’t need you puttin’ your expectations on him.”   
Molly pulls his hands into a gesture of surrender,   
“It’s not whether he’s  _ ready _ , Fjord, Caleb would deny himself water if he had the choice! He doesn’t think he’s worth you.” He leans back against Yasha’s shoulder, she blinks serenely at them both.   
“Molly is right, you know.” She informs Fjord placidly, “Caleb only takes the initiative on efforts that get him into libraries, from what Beau has said.”   
Caleb smoothes out Jester’s sleeve on the other side of the camp, Fjord watches him over his own shoulder. He turns back, and Yasha shrugs,    
“If Molly went up now and asked him, I’m  _ pretty _ certain Caleb would kiss him.”   
Molly splutters in shock, sits up from her and loses his smug expression into choking on his own saliva.   
“ _ Yasha _ !”   
“Oh, come on! Are you telling me Fjord didn’t know?”   
“I-” Molly begins to protest. Fjord cuts him off,   
“I knew, Molly, you ain’t subtle.” he folds his arms, “You look at Caleb like he’s water an’ you ain’t drank in a week.”   
“Ooh, owch.” Yasha comments, and Molly just stares, open mouthed. Seconds pass, and he turns, slowly, to Yasha,   
“You really think so?”   
“What?” Yasha frowns, Fjord does the same. Molly fiddles with his necklace, a sign that Caleb knows means he’s nervous, and he’s watching from Jester’s side now that her attention is on Beau. He stands, makes his way over.   
“If I asked, he’d kiss me?” Molly pokes at her, “Do you think so?”   
“Who would kiss you, now?” Caleb seems to materialise at Fjord’s shoulder, and Molly startles visibly, jumps a few inches into the air and stands, shaking with the shock.   
“I think so.” Yasha is as placid as ever, she turns on the log she’s sitting on, “Have you  _ tried _ asking him?”   
And her eyes dart only momentarily to Caleb, but he doesn’t miss it. His eyes widen.   
“ _ Me? _ ” He says, soft, in Celestial. And Yasha smiles at it, but doesn’t reply.   
There’s a stalemate of silence.   
“ _ He doesn’t need to ask _ .” Caleb tacks on, quietly, and Yasha’s smile widens.   
“That’s Celestial again, isn’t it?” Molly chips, disgruntled, “Don’t tell him  _ anything _ , Yasha.”   
“I don’t need to!” Yasha throws her hands up, “ _ You should do it. He won’t _ .” comes as an afterthought, and oh, that’s encouragement if he ever heard it.   
Caleb moved before he can doubt himself, kisses Molly before he can doubt himself, and is rewarded with the startled cat-like noise in the back of Molly’s through that reverberates though  _ him _ , too. Fjord barks a quick laugh, beside them,   
“A’right, I concede, you were right, Molly. Any chance of me gettin’ one of those, too?” He puts his fingertips on Caleb’s shoulder, and the wizard breaks the kiss. As Molly catches his breath and thoughts, Caleb turns onto his tiptoes and kisses Fjord, too.   
Molly ducks down to talk softly to Yasha,   
“You are the  _ best _ wingman. I owe you a drink.”   
She smiles, a smugness to rival Molly’s own.   
“I’ll add it to your tab.”

**Author's Note:**

> just in case you were under the illusion im a nice polite person im... not. i dont deliberately try to be a dick, it just happens and I don't like it either, I'm sorry.


End file.
